It’s a trope of cultural analysis to note “there’s nothing new under the sun,” as when a fashionista remarks, “Look, wide ties are back.” Or sometimes we just repurpose old words to describe new things. The horseless carriage was cooler than the iron horse, which itself nudged Old Nellie off the roads.

The new hottie in cooking is the Instant Pot, the programmable pressure cooker (and slow cooker, yogurt or cake-maker, sauté pot, food warmer and rice steamer). It’s verily “one pot does all.” I await its next generation in hopes that it will perform the prep.

But, wow, one-pot cooking is a story so old that the term hasn’t changed at all in thousands of years. Various words will describe the pot itself — skillet, casserole, roaster, Dutch oven, sheet pan, even — and, in modern times, gewgaws got added by Rival (the “Original Crock Pot”) and now, Instant Pot.

But one-pot cooking is, well, the original paleo. Before food and cooking became stratified by social class and the way that wealth could grow, purchase, hunt, discover, ship or prepare special foods — that is, until the horse — everyone just threw whatever they were eating (grains, edibles from the ground or trees, maybe milk) into “that pot over there by the fire.”

And they ate from it and then added to it, eating again from it the next day, and so on. It was as much a fixture of their hut as was the fire itself.

The first recipe books — the first start-and-stop cooking, as it were, about fixing fowl, say, or grilling meat, or filets o’ fish — were for people who could read (and those weren’t the first people). One-pot cooking is about as old as we are.

If it’s new again, it’s old again. Just fancier, perhaps better managed.

And it remains one great way to cook, not merely because of its convenience, but especially because of its flavors — layers of them, one atop the other or next to the other or pilling on each other. Sure, a sauté may approach the same, or a boil in a court bouillon, or the char of grilling over a fancy wood.

But little matches that mica-like stratifying of aromas, textures and tastes that comes with cooking it all in one pot. Time can make the matter — what’s more come-hither than a long-stewed stew? — but sometimes only a few minutes of piling on flavor will do.

We’ve got a bunch of recipes for you, each using a single pot — a sheet pan, a casserole or baking dish (sometimes an interchangeable name), a Dutch oven and a pressure cooker. You’ll find one-pot recipes elsewhere for roasters and skillets, themselves useful “one pots.”

Some things to keep in mind with these various one-pot cooking utensils:

Choose skillets carefully, especially when seeking non-stick surfaces (that don’t allow transfer of the skillet to the oven if cooking in the same skillet both atop the stove and then in the oven) and when looking for those with or without lids. A lid is handy for one-pot cooking, but not always sold along with the skillet. (You might use a sheet pan or cookie sheet instead, but be sure you have on hand either of the correct dimension to cover the entirety of the skillet’s diameter.)

The best non-stick surface on a bare- or all-metal skillet is that on a well-seasoned cast iron skillet. Getting that surface takes time, though, so prepare one well in advance.

Remember that the edges of a sheet pan are hotter than its center, so foods crowded up against or touching the sides may burn more readily than those toward the middle, especially if the cooking time is lengthy.

Likewise, the higher sides of a roaster “trap” or contain heat within the roaster itself. It may be wiser, given the recipe or the foods being cooked, to use a more shallow “one-pot” such as a baking dish or sheet pan.

A casserole (casuela, to use the Latin or Spanish term, or cocotte, the French) does not necessarily function as a Dutch oven. One key component to the true, cast iron or enameled iron Dutch oven is that its top or lid is flat, by and large, so that, when cooking outdoors, coals could be stacked atop the lid to achieve the “oven” effect. The lid also functions as a separate pan, on occasion, for either cooking or serving, outdoors or indoors. Most casseroles, with their knobbed lids, don’t allow for any of that. And, certainly, if a casserole is earthenware or made of enameled fired clay, cooking in it on top of a stove burner may or may not be allowed.

Bigos (Polish “Hunter’s Stew”)

I honed this first recipe over several years — and several recipes — from its beginnings at the elbow of a Polish elder when I lived in Chicago at the turn of the 2000s. Her beginning admonition still rings in the ears of my memory: “Rinse well always the sauerkraut!” You will find bigos (pronounced “bee-goss”) — along with pierogis, grilled kielbasa, and Polish beer — at any Polish event worth its name (and at many a Polish dinner table). It is a national treasure, with proponents and repudiators of its using tomatoes or mushrooms (which I prefer) and caraway seed or red wine (which I do not). Bigos is the perfect recipe for one-pan.

Ingredients

2 pounds sauerkraut

1 head Napa or Savoy cabbage, medium- to large

Handful dried mushrooms, rehydrated in a small amount of boiling water

Rinse the sauerkraut well in several changes of cool water and let drain, squeezing out excess water. Remove outer or wilting leaves from cabbage, core, and slice into shreds as if for cole slaw. Drain the rehydrated mushrooms, rinse and chop up. Strain the mushroom water of any grit and reserve.

In a commodious pot or Dutch oven, brown all the meats in batches in the vegetable oil, setting each batch aside, assuring not to crowd the pieces of meat as you brown them (you do not want them to steam themselves, but to develop nice brown, crisp crusts). Sweat the onions in the same pot (adding a smidge more oil, if necessary) just until they begin to brown, then add the garlic and carrots and sauté for a few minutes more. Add the tomatoes, scraping up anything brown along the bottom of the pot. Stir in the chopped mushrooms, the reserved mushroom water, bay leaves, the thyme and several healthy grinds of black pepper.

The cooking of the bigos now takes up to 6 hours, at a slow and steady heat. So, decide whether to slowly cook the bigos as a stew on top of the stove, or in the oven in a large pot or casserole. In any case, you’ll need a cooking vessel large enough to accommodate all the meats, the sauerkraut, cabbage, onions and tomatoes, leaving an inch or more at the top for bubbling juices.

Assemble the bigos in layers: Begin with all of the raw cabbage, then the drained sauerkraut, the meats (mixed together or not, it does not matter at this point, because you’ll stir up the bigos a few times as you cook along), and the onions and tomatoes. Cover the cooking pot and bring the bigos up to a slow simmer, either atop the stove and then placed in the oven, or merely atop the stove. Adjust the stove burner as necessary. If in the oven, the bigos cooks best for this long at 300-325 degrees. Stir up the bigos 3-4 times over a cooking period of 5-6 hours. Halfway through the cooking, taste the bigos for salt, adding if necessary (the sauerkraut, cured meats and tomatoes already may have done the job).

An hour before the bigos is done, stir in the dried prunes, and continue cooking. Some cooks assert that bigos is best cooked three or four days before serving, even being reheated and stirred up a bit each day. It’s certainly something that’s difficult to overcook. But its only truly bigos if it is cooked for a very long time, however it will be first enjoyed. And it is best served with slices of dark bread.

Spaghetti Pie

From Cooking Light magazine

This is the recipe my college-age daughter clamors for whenever she returns to the nest. It’s the recipe I make every year for our ladies’ Christmas dinner, at their request. It’s the recipe I froze and mailed down to Florida for a Christmas gift to one of those ladies who moved away. And the fact that you can slim it down or fatten it up when you might not have the lighter ingredients on hand (and don’t mind the extra calories) makes it all the more versatile. It’s a keeper. Tip: You will want to double this, even if you live alone. It freezes well, is a quick go-to meal for one and, combined with a salad and garlic bread, it’s a party-pleaser, too. — Barbara Ellis

Cook the pasta in boiling water, until it is al dente. Drain well (otherwise it can make the pie too watery). Brown meat in a large nonstick skillet. Drain well. Stir in salt, pepper and tomato sauce (and garlic, if using plain sauce). Bring to a boil; reduce heat and simmer for 20 minutes. Combine the sour cream, green onions, and cream cheese in a small bowl, and set aside. Place spaghetti noodles in a 2-quart casserole dish coated with cooking spray. (I use a 9×13, 3-quart casserole dish when I double the recipe). Spread the sour cream mixture over spaghetti noodles. Top with meat mixture. Sprinkle with cheddar cheese. Cover and bake at 350 for 25 minutes. Uncover, bake an additional 5 minutes or until cheese is bubbly. Yield 6 servings.

As a kid growing up in Kansas, a trip to the grandparents in Aurora was full of anticipation. They would take us to the mountains for camping and fishing, and to Denver’s amusement parks, museums and parks. The visit always included Grandma’s old-fashioned homemade Chicken and Noodles or Beef and Noodles for dinner. As the noodles rested on the kitchen table after being kneaded, rolled out and cut, Grandma would chase my brother Scott out as he tried to sneak a few.

Today, I typically take a shortcut and and make this hearty dish with store-bought frozen egg noodles (like Reames home style egg noodles or Grandma’s-brand homemade style.) But when I’m feeling nostalgic, only my Grandma’s home-made noodles will do. — T.J. Hutchinson

Ingredients

3 pounds beef chuck, cut into 1 1/4 inch cubes, or stewing meat

2 32-ounce boxes of beef broth or chicken broth

1 cup of water

1-2 tablespoons vegetable oil

1 large onion, chopped

Salt and pepper

Garlic salt or garlic powder (optional)

Frozen homestyle egg noodles or Homemade Noodles (recipe below)

Directions

Season the meat with salt and pepper. Heat 1 tablespoon vegetable oil in a pressure cooker over medium high heat. Brown one-half of the meat in oil, searing all sides. Remove and repeat for other half. Put all the browned meat back in pressure cooker. Add onions and 3 cups of broth, plus 1 cup of water; the meat should be covered. Pressure cook on low heat for 20 to 30 minutes. Remove from heat, reduce pressure and take off lid. Bring liquid and beef to slow rolling boil and drop in frozen noodles or homemade noodles (recipe below). Broth will thicken as noodles cook.

Homemade Noodles

Now, I’m not a great cook. I don’t have the patience for rolling out perfect dough. But this recipe is forgiving. I can roll out crooked sheets of pasta dough and cut the noodles unevenly and they still taste like home. If you make extra noodles, they freeze well. Use them the next time you make Beef and Noodles, or drop them and some veggies into any broth for a quick meal. — T.J. Hutchinson

Ingredients

4 eggs

2 cups flour

1/2 teaspoon salt

Directions

Mix flour and salt in a bowl, and make a well for the eggs. Slowly mix by hand until all flour is incorporated. Move to floured surface and knead dough until it is no longer tacky, adding a little flour as needed. Divide dough into two portions; let rest for about 20 minutes. Roll out dough as thin as you can (the noodles plump a lot in cooking). Cut the rolled dough in half, loosely roll up into a cylinder and make thin slices across the roll, making pinwheels. You can cut the pinwheels in half again to make shorter noodles, but they start sticking together more at this point.

Toss the pinwheels in flour to separate noodles. Let sit for a couple of hours, tossing occasionally to keep separate.

Refrigerate pasta until you are ready to add to the boiling beef and broth.

Green Chile Chicken Tacos

I was raised on the Colorado-New Mexico border, where roasted green chiles are king. We put them in our burgers, on our pizza, in our eggs, and even in our beer. For grad school, I moved to the East Coast and discovered no one knew about the magic green chiles. My mom had to ship them to me in care packages. I once found a recipe that combined chicken, green chiles and beer in a crockpot; it became my go-to when I was missing home. I’ve modified it over the years as my cooking skills have improved. Cooking it all in one pot makes for more complex flavors. — Amy Brothers

Ingredients

2 tablespoon vegetable or canola oil

2 pounds of bone-in, skinless chicken thighs (can use boneless)

Pinch of salt

1 onion, diced

4 to 5 medium tomatillos, diced

2 cloves of garlic, minced

12 ounce can of beer (preferably a lager)

16 ounce jar of flame-roasted green chiles (505 is my favorite brand)

1 bunch of fresh cilantro

12 ounces of Cotija cheese

Corn tortillas

Directions

Cut excess fat off chicken thighs and salt.

Heat oil in a large Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Sear chicken thighs on each side; remove from pot. Turn heat down to medium.

Add onion to pot and cook until translucent. Add tomatillos, and cook until soft. Add garlic and cook until fragrant.

Pour the can of beer in to deglaze the pan, scraping the sides and bottom so the bits of caramelized flavor incorporate in the liquid. Reduce down to half the liquid.

Add the jar of green chiles and return the chicken back into the pot. Turn down to low and simmer for one hour.

Pull apart chicken with fork.

Warm corn tortillas on stove, then top with chicken mixture, cheese and fresh cilantro.

I always feel like I need an extra 2 to 4 hours more per day, so I prefer to cook two or three things on the weekends that I can then eat during the week. To make the most of my cooking time, I’ve become a big fan of sheet pan recipes. They’re simple, quick to make and easy to clean up. To make this recipe from Cooking Classy even easier, I use pre-cooked bacon and line the sheet pan with foil, making cleaning up even easier. — Sara B. Hansen

Add chicken, red onions, garlic and rosemary; season everything with salt and pepper and toss to evenly coat. Spread into an even layer (don’t overlap chicken pieces). Return to oven and roast until chicken has cooked through (center of thickest pieces should register 165), about 17-20 minutes longer. Drizzle everything (or each serving) with balsamic glaze, sprinkle with parsley and serve immediately.

*For homemade balsamic glaze: In a small saucepan, whisk together 1/2 cup balsamic vinegar and 1 tablespoon honey. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to medium-low and simmer, stirring frequently, until reduced to about 3 tablespoons, about 10-13 minutes. Let cool (it will thicken more as it cools).

Reuben Strata

We haven’t actually made this one ourselves yet, but it looked so good (and was so different) that we thought we’d share.

From “One-Pan Wonders” by America’s Test Kitchen (Cook’s Country 2017)

Whisk eggs, milk, salt and pepper together in bowl, then pour evenly over top. Cover dish tightly with plastic wrap, pressing it flush to service. Weigh strata down and refrigerate for 1 to 24 hours.

Adjust oven rack to upper-middle position and heat oven to 325 degrees. Meanwhile, let strata sit at room temperature for 20 minutes. Unwrap strata and bake until edges and center are puffed and edges have pulled away slightly from sides of dish, about 50 minutes, rotating dish halfway through baking.

Remove dish from oven, adjust oven rack to 8 inches from broiler element, and heat broiler. Sprinkle sauerkraut over top of strata, then sprinkle with remaining 2/3 cup Swiss cheese. Broil until cheese is melted and golden, about 5 minutes.

Remove dish from oven and let cool for 10 minutes. Sprinkle with chives and serve.

Tip for weighing down strata: Cover surface with plastic wrap, pressing it flush to surface and weigh it down with a zipper-lock bag filled with sugar or dried beans.

Vegetable and Orzo Tian

From “One-Pan Wonders” by America’s Test Kitchen (Cook’s Country 2017)

This is so beautiful to look at we just had to try it. And it’s as delicious as it looks. One key, Cook’s Country warns, is buying vegetables that are about the same size so that when you lay them out in a “shingle” pattern, they’re somewhat uniform.